


Separated At Fractured Light

by Buggu



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everyone is a Potty Mouth, F/F, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multiple Plotlines, Not Beta Read, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Pairings to be updated, Platonic Sora and Kairi friendship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rating May Change, Will update characters as they appear, brothers being brothers, warning for language?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-06-08 00:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buggu/pseuds/Buggu
Summary: It all began when a stranger returned Sora's favorite pen.





	1. Sora: Synchronal

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the result of me playing the entirety of 1.5 + 2.5 +2.8 in the span of about....4 months?? And then I found this really cute Soriku art by Starhoodies, specifically this piece: http://starhoodies.tumblr.com/post/145432089878/this-looked-a-lot-less-embarrassingly-shoujo-in
> 
> Please check out the artist's blog, they draw such awesome things!
> 
> Honestly, I wasn't sure about this fic, but it keeps...bugging me. I've made so many notes about it and I decided to make an effort for it. WELP, here goes!

“Earth to Sora! Soooooooora!”

A finger jabbed against his forehead was enough to snap Sora Strife from his daze. His confused expression was met by his childhood friend Kairi’s annoyed stare: her mouth pulled into a thin line and her eyes narrowed. She sat directly across from Sora at their shared table, three books and a notepad splayed before her, and her chin rested on her propped up arm. It was like any other typical weekday where the two met around noon for lunch: discussing their classes, ranting about some weird new trend, or catching each other up on family matters.

Though it usually ended with Kairi picking on Sora for how often he ended up lost in thought.

“Uh.” Sora’s eyes darted back and forth before he offered a meek smile. “...Yes?”

“Geeze, Sora! You don’t have to be such a literal airhead,” she teased and her expression instantly simmered. She turned her attention back down on her book. “I asked you how your classes have been, silly. I feel like all the teachers lied about college. I expected tests and tests and tests, but everything’s been...easy so far?”

“Pfft. I warned you not to spend your whole summer studying,” Sora replied with a shrug and scratched at his temple. “It’s only been two months since you left Traverse High. It’s not like you were gonna be swamped with like a hundred tests on your first day.”

She rolled her eyes and sent a brief, skeptical glance up. “Yeah and waste my free time doing nothing and being lazy like you? It’s way better to be prepared, Sora.”

“Hey! I’m not that lazy, Kairi!” Sora feigned an offended gasp and dramatically pressed a hand to his chest.

“Oh? You’ve been taking classes for a year now and you’re _still_ procrastinating on picking your major.” She pulled the pencil tucked behind her ear and began to jot notes on her pad.

“Well, I don’t have a way with words like you do, Miss Poet. Even Roxas thinks it’s smart I’m getting my general study stuff out of the way first.”

Kairi thrusted her pencil in Sora’s direction, in a playful manner. “One: poetry is just a hobby for me and you know it. Two: your _twin_ brother agrees with everything you do anyway.”

Sora shrugged and strummed his fingers on the tabletop. “I dunno...I just want to make sure whatever major I pick, it’ll be what I really want. Now that mom and dad finalized the divorce…” his voice trailed off as a sigh escaped his throat. Sora hunched on the table, dropping his chin onto crossed arms. “It’s made me rethink a lot of stuff I was so sure about…”

“Oh,” Kairi muttered and all traces of her teasing tone deflated. She frowned, blue eyes observing him sympathetically. “How is your mom doing?” she asked as she reached for Sora’s arm and gently squeezed it.

“Mom’s...Mom. She’s still working for the post office during the week, but she actually started travel agency work during the weekend. She says hi, by the way.”

“But...Two jobs?”

Sora glanced up, recognizing concern in Kairi’s voice. He shook his head side to side and placed his hand over hers. “Nah. It’s not like that. I think Mom just wanted to distract herself. I mean...Cloud’s still helping out with things and Roxas has his internship at Ansem Corp. Besides, they might not _be_ in love anymore, but Dad and Mom split all the finances in half and tried to keep things as easy as possible for the divorce.”

Kairi nodded in understanding, but she didn’t reply. They spent some time in silence, listening to the chatter of their classmates in the cafeteria. From their table near the back of the room, Sora spotted his brother’s childhood friends--Hayner, Pence, and Olette--having their own social gathering. It didn’t surprise him too much that a majority of the college freshman were all graduates from Traverse High, as he had been too. It was the closest college from the high school and smack dab in the center of the city.

A sudden ping from Kairi’s pocket disturbed them from their thoughts and Sora watched as she scrambled for it. He spotted the familiar silver flip phone and its decorative stickers; he remembered each and every single one of them--the faded heart that he gave Kairi in his freshman year, the pink and black flannel square from her old art teacher, and the Mickey Mouse silhouette from the Disney World trip last year. The soft and calm piano melody of the ringtone lasted for a few seconds before Kairi answered.

“Hello, Naminé.” She smiled and paused for a reply. “Yep. On my lunch break right now. Did you want to meet up later?”

Sora’s eyes lit up in excitement and he perked up. He mouthed a slow ‘ _who is that?_ ’ and leaned forward intently.

Kairi immediately stuck her tongue out and spun in her seat, back to Sora. “Yeah, we can compare our art history notes. How about the Starbucks across campus?” Another pause for a few seconds as she tucked strands of her bangs behind her right ear. “Yay! Sounds good. See you then!”

He waited until Kairi turned back and his grin only grew wider. “Ooooh? And who’s this Naaaaminaaaaay? You made a new friend already?!”

“Believe it or not, Sora, I can have a social life outside of you.” Kairi swept her auburn hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes.

“What? I have plenty of friends too! Sheesh, Kairi.”

“Besides me?” Kairi teased and turned her attention back to her school book. “Or any of Roxas’ friends,” she added before Sora could reply, leaving him with his mouth gaping open.

“Um...Leon?”

“Your older brother’s ‘not boyfriend’?” Kairi shot back with air quotes but didn’t bother to look at him.

“Speaking of--” Sora leaned closer on the table, waggling his eyebrows “--Roxas said he saw Cloud and Leon totally holding hands and making out a few nights go. I dunno why they keep denying that they like _like_ each other.”

“Ha. It’s cute that everyone knows they’re dating, except for them. They’re pretty clueless.”

“Maybe Cloud has commitment issues,” Sora muttered and pulled at his wristband. “He might be scared that he and Leon could fall out of love.” Like his parents had.

“Yeah, you’re probably be right,” Kairi agreed and paused with her notes. She turned her phone over, glancing down at the time, and slipped it back into her pocket. “Alright, I’ve got to go. Literature is calling me.”

“Are you sure it’s not just Naminé again?” Sora asked, giving a not-so-subtle wink.

“Oh, hush.” Kairi gathered her belongings quickly and shoved her books into her denim satchel pack. “I was going to let you meet her, but not if you don’t behave, Sora.”

“Awww! No, no,” he whined pathetically and clasped his hands together. “I’ll be good. Let me meet Naminé!”

“I’ll think about it,” Kairi teased and tousled Sora’s spiky hair. She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and waved. Before Sora could say a word, she was several paces away and halfway through the cafeteria.

As he saw his friend disappear into a crowd of their peers, Sora realized he was being watched and his goofy smile shrank away. He got a glimpse of the other student blatantly staring him down and Sora self-consciously looked away, fiddling his fingers around each other. From what he could see from the corner of his eyes, it wasn’t someone he recognized. The other student was sitting alone in one of the wall booths, teal eyes peeking out from his bangs and his mouth pursed in a frown. He had long silver hair--definitely a unique color for someone around Sora’s age--and was oddly...dressed up? Many of the other students, like Sora, wore extremely casual jeans and tees, but he looked like a business professional in a dark grey blazer, white button up shirt, blue slacks. Maybe he was a teacher aide or a tutor?

Sora nibbled on his bottom lip and casually pushed himself up from his seat. He made his way to large exit doors, but remained calm. It wasn’t like high school, where judgmental peers hated your guts every chance they had. He ignored the student, who was still watching him, as he passed by the booth. The last thing he’d want to end the week with was a fight...

He slipped out of the cafeteria and glanced around. The main entrance to Traverse University was a mere ten feet to the right--the golden doors weren’t exactly hard to miss--and the teacher’s lounge was directly across the hallway. Through the glass walls, he could see chancellor Yen Sid’s office door, but he didn’t stand around for long when he heard the cafeteria doors open. Sora kept a slower pace, looking only to avoid a conflict and not run for his life, as he made his way to the Humanities Wing hall.

The university’s layout was divided in eight sectioned areas: Art and Design, Business, Engineering, Humanities, Medicine and Healthcare, Science and Math, Social Sciences, and finally the General Education and Test Prep. And each wing had relevant classrooms located up and down its halls. All in all, it wasn’t too difficult to navigate once someone memorized the section of their specific field.

Sora could hear the persistent footsteps following behind him. Curiosity got the better of him and, against his better judgement, he came to a halt.

“Hey.”

Only after Sora turned around, did he realize he was dwarfed by the white-haired stranger. He was looking up at the teal eyes, a head taller than him. After a few seconds on silence and awkward stares, Sora canted his head to the side. “Hey?”

The other student quickly broke eye contact and frowned. His eyes darted back and forth before he lifted his hand, and with it, a very familiar red and black Mickey Mouse pen. The very same one that Sora bought from the Disney World gift shop and always carried it on his person. “I...uh...You dropped this when you came in the cafeteria.”

“Oh!” Sora gasped and happily took the pen. “Thank you! I had no idea it fell out of my pocket.”

The other student’s expression softened and he nodded. “You and your friend seemed busy...I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Well, I'm glad that you aren’t mad at me,”  Sora murmured as he tucked the pen away; he made sure to pat his pocket down in assurance. A dual wave of shock and relief washed over him--one for the fact that Sora had actually lost his pen and didn't notice, the second for its swift return.

“Mad…?”

“Yeah! You were kind of glaring at me in the cafeteria. Heheh.”

“Sorry…I didn’t realize it.” The white-haired student turned his head and avoided Sora’s gaze. To Sora, he looked very uncomfortable; how his brows bowed against his eyes, his hands balled into fists, how his mouth kept scrunching up. “I didn’t want to lose sight of you.”

“Nah, it’s no worries. I’m Sora by the way!” Sora’s hand shot forward eagerly and he flashed a toothy grin.

“Riku,” the other student quietly replied and hesitantly reached for Sora’s hand. After a gentle handshake, he relaxed and tension disappeared from his face. “Riku Tremaine.”

“Nice to meet you, Riku Riku Tremaine,” Sora declared as he folded his arms behind his head and leaned to the side. After he was given a confused blink and cocked eyebrow, Sora only giggled. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. Anyway, whatcha studying here?”

“I’m a business major, but I do most of my classes online,” Riku replied and shrugged. “This semester I have some classes that are campus only.”

“Business, huh? Well, you’re definitely dressed all businessy and stuff.”

“Uh...thanks?” Riku glanced down to his attire and brushed off his sleeves. He paused, pulled at his left sleeve, and stared at his wrist watch. “Sorry, Sora, but I have to go.”

“Aww, did I scare you that badly?” Sora asked with a chuckle.

“No n-not at all!” Riku shook his head fervently, waving one hand in a reassuring manner. He took a few steps past Sora and glanced down the hall. “It’s work. Nothing personal.”

“Ah, I see!” Sora nodded, the smile never leaving his face. “Thanks again for giving me my pen back. It’s my favorite one.”

Riku paused and looked over his shoulder, as a brief smile of his own appeared. “You’re welcome. Just try not to lose it again..”

“Good point.” He watched as Riku gave him one last nod before he walked off. But before Riku could disappear entirely into the sea of students traversing the hall, Sora stood on his tiptoes.  Some of the passing students gave Sora a funny look as he waved his arms back and forth and jumped up and down in excitement. “Wait, Riku! Riku!”

Sora saw a flash of silver hair as Riku immediately spinned around, his teal eyes skimming through the crowd for Sora. “Yeah?”

“Have lunch with me and my friend tomorrow!” Sora cupped his hands around his mouth.

Riku blinked in several beats as he gawked at Sora. He looked confused by Sora’s request and his mouth opened and closed several times as he searched for a response--as if he was truly caught off guard; as if it was the first time anyone had ever asked him. Eventually, as the two gazed at one another, Riku’s head slowly moved up and down and he gave Sora an affirming nod. “Ok,” was his response before he continued on walking.

“Cool,” Sora called out and gave two thumbs up. He briefly wondered on the nature of Riku's job and how hard a business major's classes could be, but decided there would be time to ask Riku about it later. Sora whipped out his phone and eagerly pulled up Kairi’s contact info. With his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, Sora’s fingers practically danced back and forth on the keypad.

_Ha! Made a new friend too. In your face. :P_

It wasn’t long before his cell vibrated with Kairi’s reply.

_It only took you a whole year to make a friend. Nice~_

Sora rolled his eyes and made his way to his Algebra II classroom. “She says it like it’s a bad thing.”


	2. Riku: Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Void: containing nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I was so excited to start posting this fic and I got to work on this next part. 
> 
> But I have to warn you all of the mental and emotional abuse in this chapter. If that kind of material is upsetting to you, I'd advise not reading this.

_It was the screams that startled him from sleep. Screeching tires on wet pavement, his tiny body jerking back and forth; the seatbelt snug across his lap was the only thing keeping him from being tossed out a window. Bright lights blinded him. His heart raced--beating so violently, it threatened to burst from his chest. He struggled to call for his mom and dad, but his voice lumped in his throat._

_Sirens wailed against the pouring rain and it drowned his feeble cries._

Riku’s eyes snapped open, as the reality of his dark room came into view. He glanced around wildly, confusion and apprehension fogging his mind. Seconds passed before he realized he was safe in bed, though his blanket was strewn over his body and his fingers dug into his bed sheets. His knuckles were a ghastly white and his limbs were shaking. Beads of sweat pooled along Riku’s eyebrows and his breathing was shallow.

“Just a dream,” he whispered in a croak, his throat was dry. “Just...a dream…” His heart pulsed erratically and its vibrations spread through his chest. A dream haunting him for nearly thirteen years.

He forced his head towards his alarm clock and squinted at it with heavy eyelids. It was just after 5 a.m. and a nearly an hour before he needed to wake up, but he decided against going back to sleep. Riku rubbed his eyes and pushed himself up, dragging his palm against his cheek. Exhaustion swarmed him as he tugged his blanket free and stood at his bedside. He made his bed and grabbed a fresh change of clothes--an alabaster, long-sleeved polo and cream colored twill pants.

Riku got dressed with minimal effort, taking his time pull his pants on and to button his shirt, as he stared at his room. The same, dull white walls greeted him. Blank, empty walls. No posters, no decorations; as it had been for thirteen years. Riku often wondered how other people organized their rooms, if they had more than just a bed and desk and armoire. As he dumped his pajamas in his hamper, he thought about the posters from the university’s bookshop; maybe he would ask to hang one up.

He cracked his bedroom door open and peeked into the hallway, just in case his grandmother was still asleep. He peered into the darkness and listened, but only silence lingered.

Riku walked out of his room and made his way to the kitchen, down the hall on the left. The bareness followed Riku as he stepped forward--the walls were just as empty and plain as Riku’s room. It was an isolating experience, walking back and forth in the narrow halls, and he never understood why his grandmother preferred it that way. There was...a lot that she preferred that Riku couldn’t understand either. No electronics, aside from the radio in the living room that was twice Riku’s age and the black crosley phone hanging on the kitchen wall. Turning a light off as soon as someone left a room. Having a specific meal for each day of the week; the same meals every week. No paintings, no furnishings beyond basic need. Just... _emptiness_.

He busied himself with gathering the ingredients for breakfast: rolled oats and two bananas to be cut up. He placed a pan of water on the stove and turned the knob to medium heat. He then retreated to the bathroom, which was sandwiched between his room and the kitchen, to give the water time to boil.

Riku studied his reflection after entering and frowned. His forehead creased with wrinkles as he leaned closer and pulled at the dark circles under his eyes--the markings stood out too well against his fair complexion. A sigh slipped out as he reached for a headband and brushed his fingers through his hair. Riku smoothed his white strands down before gathering the top layer of hair in his fist and he quickly decided on a half-ponytail. After his hair was secure, Riku leaned towards the mirror again, absently twirling a handful of his ends, as he watched the tired face relentlessly staring back. He wondered if he looked just as boring as the walls.

Riku’s eyes narrowed, his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips squished into a pout as he eyeballed the identical figure. But he gave up after mere seconds and his frown only grew. Staring was...hard. It twisted his stomach into knots, made his hands shake, and his body often locked up from sheer panic. Some days, he felt like a prisoner in his own flesh; helpless to his reactions.

A distinct hiss caught his attention and Riku immediately forgot about the mirror. He looked out the door frame, glancing towards the kitchen, and made a beeline back to the stove--though he crept to keep his footsteps light. A relieved sound escaped Riku when he saw that the water had barely leaked from the pan and just reached its boiling point. He carefully added the oats into the pan and stirred it in brief whips before turning the heat to simmering. Afterwards, he fetched his grandmother’s copper kettle and teapot and tea.

He moved in silence. Water in the kettle. Kettle on the stove. Turn the burner on. Let water boil. Riku believed he could make the tea while blindfolded, if he really wanted to.

As he waited for the kettle to warm, Riku turned his attention back the oatmeal. He stirred it, watching for a fluffy consistency, and pulled the pan away from the heat. Riku then gathered a pair of bowls, two spoons, a serving tray, and two cups--a teacup for his grandmother and a regular cup for Riku’s milk. Riku placed one of the ceramic bowls on the tray, with a spoon beside it. Then he moved the teapot on the right corner and placed the metallic infuser filled with white tea leaves inside.

The tea kettle whistled as steam billowed from its stout and Riku gently yanked it from the stove. He slowly poured the boiling water into the teapot, with the rising steam collecting and condensing against his cheeks. A brief sweet and floral fragrance tickled his nose as he filled the pot and he hummed appreciatively.

“Well, well. Aren’t you up early,” the disparaging voice of his grandmother came from the kitchen doorway.

Riku froze, nearly spilling some of the water onto the food tray. “I had a bad dream,” he quietly replied and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “I’m, uh, almost done if you want to sit down.”

“Dreams are a nuisance, aren’t they?” The pejorative tone passed by Riku and moved towards the kitchen table. Her footsteps were slow and methodical. He caught a glimpse of his grandmother’s deep purple robe.

Urgently, Riku finished plating a newly scooped bowl of oatmeal topped with pieces of banana. He grabbed a bottle of cinnamon and honey from the seasonings and laid them beside the bowl. Riku’s eyes bore down at every inch of the tray, making sure it looked presentable. The weight of his grandmother’s icy green eyes restrained his movements and followed his every motion, as if waiting for Riku to do or say something wrong. It never failed to intensify the nineteen-year-old’s doubt.

“Dreams aren’t all so bad,” he murmured as he turned, clutching the food tray tightly, and approached the kitchen table. He brought the tray directly before his grandmother and lowered it on the tabletop, taking a step back to get a gauge on her approval. At a first glance, many would probably think of his grandmother as a prim old woman. She oozed with luster and intelligence during conversations in public, but only Riku knew the truth--it was all forced. Riku hesitated when he noticed how his grandmother’s face wrinkled in a scowl. Her eyebrows curled up into slender arches as she intertwined her fingers.

“How many times must I remind you?” she snapped, though her voice lacked venom to it. “Two spoons.”

Anxiety ebbed at his insides as Riku turned away. He silently retrieved a teaspoon from the silverware drawer and placed onto his grandmother's outstretched palm. “Sorry.” It was all he could say; excuses didn’t matter to her.

She harrumphed. “It seems you inherited your mother’s forgetfulness, haven’t you? I suppose it’s expecting too much that you would grow out of it.”

Riku swallowed against his tense throat and turned away before she saw how his expression recoiled. He didn’t respond to her and got to work on cleaning up the kitchen. He focused his attention on the sunlight that began to filter through the kitchen windows, despite how his hands quivered as he cleaned the dirty dishes.  Anytime she mentioned his mom, it stung, but Riku fought so hard every time to control his emotions. It was always ‘your mother’ or ‘that woman’. He never understood.

“I already ate, so I’m gonna go get ready,” Riku blurted the lie out, knowing she would eventually ask. In his mind, he had a line up of possible responses and statements ready, knowing his grandmother could ask about anything and everything to catch him off-guard. “I didn’t want to wake you up sooner so I made myself some oatmeal first.”

He wasn’t hungry anymore. He felt...numb. He shuffled out of the kitchen, leaving his grandmother to her food.

 

* * *

 

The car ride to the university did nothing to alleviate his anxiety.

“Tell me, Riku,” his grandmother finally spoke for the first time since they had both entered her car, “how long until this foolish shadowing will end?”

“For...my internship at Ansem Corp?” Riku asked, not entirely sure what she was referring to.

“It’s been four months already. Surely, that boy running the company knows if he’s going to accept you or not.”

Riku took a deep breath and glanced out the window, eyeing all the people on the sidewalks enviously. Teenagers, adults, couples holding hands, moms with their children. They all looked happy. “It’s not like a regular internship. I have to put enough hours in that will match up with the university’s credits. But since I’m limited to just five hours of work each day…it’ll take time.” As he’d explained over and over. “Everyone’s nice enough though...Mister Terra is really helpful--”

“Nice? Helpful?” his grandmother replied coolly. “It is a _business_. Not a social gathering. Xehanort was a fool to give control to such a soft-hearted person.”

Riku’s hands fidgeted in his lap. He bowed his head and closed his eyes; knowing better than to argue.

“If there was anything our marriage taught me, Xehanort was a short-sighted simpleton. He refused to acknowledge my son was the best candidate to replace him and he picked another successor to spite me,” she continued on. Apparently, his grandmother and the company’s previous C.E.O. had been married nearly forty years ago, but it was a short-lived marriage of only three years. Her second husband and marriage had resulted in the birth of Riku’s father. “At this rate, it will be run into the dirt.”

Riku could have told her that the company’s stocks were at their highest point in the quarter or that the business was booming, but he knew she wouldn’t care.

The rest of the car ride was quiet until they arrived at the front gates of Traverse University. Riku clutched his notebooks to his chest as he waited for his grandmother to come to a complete halt along the drop-off curb. He pulled at the car door’s handle and looked to the driver’s mirror, “I’ll be done at noon, like usual.”

She didn’t reply and merely tilted her head. Riku observed his grandmother. She had decided on a blue satin dress today with a swirling lace overlay and purple soutache gems embroidered along the shoulders. Her cheeks were powdered and she wore her favorite matching jade earrings and broach. Her salt and pepper hair was neatly pulled into a modest bun. And...she looked like she had better things to do than being here.

“...Thank you for the ride,” Riku said, as he said every morning he was dropped off. He climbed out of the car and closed the door. As the car pulled away, his shoulders drooped from relief and he finally relaxed.

 

It was just another regular morning for Riku Tremaine.


	3. Sora: Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Identity: the fact of being who or what a person or thing is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry for the lack of posting lately. I'll try to post maybe once a week or every other week since I don't plan on writing too long of a chapter. For now, I've been writing each one until it feels *right* to end it, if that makes sense.

The insistent knocking on Sora’s door was enough to draw him from his slumber and he begrudgingly sat up. A yawn erupted from his mouth as he rubbed his eyes and he groaned. Clutching his blanket with one hand, the other fumbled around the bedside in a lazy search for his cellphone. Eventually, he moved his arm out towards his nightstand and groped blindly in the dark. First his hand bumped into his lamp and then it smacked against the half-empty water bottle he forgot--his fingertips brushed against his phone’s screen after struggling for several seconds.

Sora made a soft and incoherent noise as he unlocked the screen, but as soon as his phone flashed to life, he recoiled and squinted. The light cut through the pitch black of his room and he rubbed against his eyes again to adjust to the sudden brightness.

There was another knock and Sora lifted his sleepy, heavy-lidded gaze to his door. The hall light seeped through the crack of the frame.

“Sora, you up?” Cloud’s voice came from the other side.

“Maybe,” Sora mumbled between more yawns. He took another glimpse at his phone and sighed. “Awww, Cloud, it’s not even seven yet…”

There was a brief pause as his older brother opened the door and poked his head through. “Yeah, but you begged me to make breakfast.” Judging from his appearance, he had just gotten home from his overnight shift. Cloud was still wearing his baggy, blue labor coat and white Twilight Town ball cap; tips of his blonde hair peeked out from underneath the hat. “What’s more important? Another hour of sleep or nice warm bacon?”

“...It depends on if it’s lean bacon or not.”

Cloud snorted. “Thick cut; definitely not lean.”

“Fiiiiine. Bacon wins!” Sora announced as he threw his blanket off. Cloud chuckled at how he practically leaped to his feet and shut the door. Sora’s arms flew up as he stretched his limbs out and rolled his head side to side--he was a very heavy sleeper but once he did wake up, he was wide awake and alert. Sora just liked sleeping. A lot. “Now, what do I wanna wear?”

He reached for the lamp on his nightstand and twirled its switch over. The base of the light was modeled after the genie lamp from Aladdin, with a long faux brass tube protruding from its body and an old-fashioned pembroke lampshade covering the lightbulb. He had owned it since childhood and was thankful it still worked, even ten years later. Sora then looked around his room before walking to his dresser on the opposite wall. He stepped around carefully, avoiding the few empty soda cans and water bottles littering the floor.

From a single glance in his room, it was logical to assume Sora was a Disney fanatic. By his door on the left side of the room, there were many authentic movie posters lined neatly in a row: The Lion King, The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and even some of the newer releases like The Princess and the Frog and Moana. Bordering the entire room was a continuous row of ceiling shelves which housed many tiny Disney character plushies and figurines. But, to Sora, fanatic was a _strong_ word. He wasn’t obsessed with the franchises; he just adored the movies and it was a constant core aspect of his growing up. What wasn’t there to like about the wonderful soundtracks and animation from movie after movie anyway?

After digging through his dresser, Sora decided on his favorite pair of red cargo pants, black camo-colored tank top, and denim vest. His nightshirt and shorts were discarded into the overflowing hamper at the end of his bed and he got dressed in mere seconds. “I’ll catch up on laundry when I get home,” he noted to himself and eyed the pile of clothes before rushing out the bedroom.

He hummed a nonsensical tune as he strolled out of his room. To the left of his door, was Roxas’ room and a little further down was one of the entrances to the basement--or rather Cloud’s room as of the past three years. Roxas inherited Cloud’s old room after he and Sora grew past the point of sharing a room and Cloud put all the work into renovating the basement as a bigger bedroom; it even had its own shower and toilet. To his right, was his mom’s door, and past that, the living room.

“Hey, Sora,” Cloud’s voice echoed in the hall, “Be useful and make sure Roxas is up too.”

“Kay!” Sora called back and turned his attention to his twin’s door. He rapped his knuckle on the wood, but there was no reply. Sora thought nothing of it as he opened the door, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer. “Rooooooxas.”

In the darkness of the other twenty-year-old’s room, Sora caught a glimpse of his unmoving figure bundled under his blanket. He reached for the light switch and turned it on without warning. Roxas reacted with a grumpy noise and only buried himself more under his comforter.

“Rooooooooooooooxaaaaaassss,” Sora repeated, amping up a high-pitched tone that he knew annoyed Roxas. “Wake up, dear twin brother.”

“Go away!” Roxas’ muffled tone hissed. “Lemme sleep.” His voice was slurred and he sounded barely conscious. It had been a nightmare to wake Roxas up during the school year because of how much he hated being disturbed while asleep.

“Cloud told me to get you up,” Sora replied and stuck his tongue out. “He’s making breakfast.”

“‘M not hungry,” Roxas said with exasperation as his blanket shuffled more. “Turn the light off.”

“Well, ladies and gentleman,” Sora announced to an imaginary crowd, gesturing dramatically, and ignored the protests. “Sora Strife just can’t get his brother to wake up. You all know what that means!”

“...Don’t you dare,” Roxas growled, still hiding under his blanket.

“That’s right! It’s time for a Sora Bomb.”

“Don’t!” Roxas was sounding more awake by the second.

Sora walked closer to Roxas’ bed. He held his arms up in the air and towered over his twin. “Sora Bomb!” he exclaimed with glee as he fell forward and plopped down onto Roxas’ prone form.

A screech erupted from under the blanket. Arms and legs flailed for freedom. “Sora, what the hell?! Get off!”

Sora continued to laugh, content with the knowledge of which buttons he could press to annoy Roxas without pissing him off too badly. It had been that way ever since the pair were children--pranking each other and rough housing--but any anger never lasted for more than the span of a few minutes. Roxas managed to expose an arm and swiftly elbowed Sora in the gut, causing the brunette to yelp in surprise. Sora doubled over, more from shock than pain, and fell from the full size mattress onto the floor.

Roxas dentagled himself out from his blanket and sat up. His dirty blonde hair was an disheveled bedhead mess and his blue eyes fixated on Sora in a scowl as he reached for a pillow. “Jerk!” he yelled while flinging the pillow directly into Sora’s face unapologetically.

“Ow!”

“You deserve it!”

“Well, you’ll thank me when you eat,” Sora retorted as he rubbed his face. 

“I will never thank you for crushing me and my bladder,” Roxas snapped as he stood up and stormed out of the room, most likely heading for the bathroom.

Sora grinned. Roxas would mellow out after he was more awake--years from experience told him so. He took the time to admire his brother’s room in his absence. Despite being twins, Roxas and Sora grew into many different interests and hobbies in the past few years. Their features weren’t entirely the same either. While they did share the same ocean blue eyes, Roxas had lighter hair compared to Sora’s dark brown and he kept it trimmed shorter. Sora wasn’t quite as lanky as Roxas and he had a ‘baby face’ as his mom liked to point out, and Roxas had more defined cheekbones and less pudge on his face. He had also hit a growth spurt during highschool and stood three inches taller now.

Sora noticed that he had several gaming consoles in his room: an original PS1, a PS2, a PS3 and both the slim PS4 and PS4 pro. A few of them were childhood Christmas presents and the others relatively new. Posters from video game titles Sora didn’t recognize covered nearly every inch of wall and there were two glass shelves full of game cases. Huddled in the corner was a gaming desktop and utility desk set up as well--another hand-me-down from Cloud.

Eventually, Roxas stalked back in the room looking none the happier. He palmed his hand against his eyes and stared at nothing.

“Aww, need me to carry you to the kitchen?” Sora teased with a wink and nudged his twin’s knee with an elbow.

“Shaddup,” Roxas huffed, though his lips betrayed him with a smile. He lazily grabbed his pillow and slapped it against the back of Sora’s head. “Let me get dressed in peace, jerkface.”

“Fine. But if you fall back asleep, expect Sora Bomb round two!”

“Out!”

A chucked pillow was enough to make Sora scramble back. His gleeful laugh followed behind as he rolled away and then darted out the door, leaving Roxas to his own devices. He brushed himself off and straightened his clothes out, resuming his trip to the kitchen. As he walked through the hallway, he passed by the portraits of his family. Photos of all three Strife boys as infants met eye level: Sora and Roxas’ were the first to greet him, then Cloud’s, and then a large framed picture of his parent’s wedding day.

Sora came to a halt as he stared at the photo, his expression neutral and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He drew his lower lip between his teeth as he gazed at the photo, his eyes dancing back and forth and soaking in all the details. His mom looked so beautiful, with her flowing, curled strawberry blonde hair cascading over her shoulder. Her dress was a lacy appliqués gown and there was a very noticeable baby bump. His parents met during their senior year of highschool and then married at mid-twenties; Cloud had born only a couple months later.

His fingers traced along the bumpy ridges of the frame and his eyes followed the movement. They then settled for the next portrait to the left and Sora’s hand rested on the corner. The picture was of another infant, just like Sora and Roxas and Cloud, but the baby’s eyes weren’t open and he was bundled up in a white swaddler. The white border had a pair of etched wings on both sides and printed underneath in cursive font was a name. ‘ _Ventus Strife_ ’.

“Heyya Ven,” Sora greeted the picture, as he did every morning, and he wore a lopsided smile. “It’ll be a good day, yeah?”

He paused after getting a whiff of applewood and his stomach rumbled instantly. Sora rushed after the delicious smell and trailed it into the kitchen. Cloud’s back was to him as he attended to the bacon sizzling and popping on the stovetop.

“Bacon!” Sora cheered as he entered the kitchen and sat down at the closest chair. He snatched two pieces from the plate at the center of the table and devoured them. They were nice and crispy strips with chewier ends and the taste pleasantly melted in his mouth. “Yuuuum!”

“Don’t eat all of it, Sora,” Cloud warned over his shoulder, just as Sora reached for more on the plate. “Save some for Rox and Mom.”

Sora’s hand flinched momentarily and he picked up only one more piece. “Wait, what about you?” he asked before nibbling on the bacon.

“I already ate before I got home.”

“Oh?” Sora asked suspiciously as his eyes squinted. “Nothing’s open this early and I didn’t see you pack anything for work either.”

Cloud turned around and stared at Sora briefly. His eyes shot back and forth before he sighed in resignation. He muttered a soft, “Leon was up, so I stopped by his place.”

Sora’s eyebrows cocked high on his forehead and his mouth stretched in a wide smirk. “So you had a breakfast date?”

“No!” Cloud replied way too quickly. “We’re just friends. How many times do I have to say it?”

“Really now?” Roxas waltzed into the kitchen, arms crossed behind his back. In the span of a few minutes, he had gotten dressed into his oversized black hoodie and black denim jeans. His hair, while still spiky, was styled in a sweeping wave. He walked over by Sora’s seat and grabbed some bacon as well. “I’ve never seen ‘just friends’ swap spit like you two did Tuesday night.”

Cloud dropped the tongs he’d been using to grab the hot meat and his cheeks tinted with a pink blush. “You shouldn’t spy, Roxas,” he fumbled with his words and cleared his throat.

“As if.” Roxas rolled his eyes. He plopped down beside Sora and stuffed his mouth full. “You were both sitting in his car, literally right out in our driveway.”

“Oh, oh, when you two get married, can I be the ring bearer?” Sora asked coyly and perched his chin on his hands.

Cloud’s face blanched as he put on a poker-face. “Not funny, you two.”

“Come on, Cloud. Just admit it,” Roxas said between mouthfuls.

“Neither of you have any grounds for actual relationship advice,” Cloud stated and crossed his arms. “Roxas, you broke up with the only girlfriend you ever had after two weeks. _With a text._ Remember?”

Roxas balked and immediately closed his mouth. He dipped his head down and scratched at his his arm. His eyes shot to Sora, who shrugged and continued eating.

“Are you two pestering your brother again?” came their mother’s voice as she stepped into the kitchen. She was dressed in a green bathrobe and hair rollers covered her head.

“Morning,” the three greeted in unison.

She walked by Sora and Roxas, kissing them both on the head. “Why is Cloud lecturing you two so early? Hm?”

“Because he’s shy,” Sora giggled as he swiped another piece of bacon.

“Because he is too scared to admit the truth,” Roxas added. “So he deflects everything on us.”

“Next time, only Mom is getting edible bacon,” Cloud vowed as he brought another plate of bacon in one hand and scrambled eggs in the other. “Charred bacon for you two.”

Their mom laughed and gave a swift kiss on Cloud’s cheek. “Thank you, dear. How was work tonight?”

It was Cloud’s turn to shrug. “Ten hours of packing sea salt ice cream. Same as usual.” He lifted his cap from his head, running his fingers through his hair. Sora took the time to observe his brother and his smiled faded. Cloud looked...tired. Dark circles were starting to form under his eyes. Cloud often appeared reserved, but his expression was particularly distant.

“I’m gonna head to bed now,” he continued after yawning and leaned closer. He ruffled both Sora and Roxas’ hair and snatched the bacon from Sora’s hand, promptly chewing on it and ignoring Sora’s offended gasp. “Night,” he called as he turned away and crossed through the kitchen to the basement door on the opposite side of the room.

“Sleep well, Cloud.” Their mom grabbed a few pieces of bacon and munched away as she went to make herself coffee.

Roxas waited until Cloud disappeared through the door and his footsteps echoed in descent. He lightly elbowed Sora’s arm and scooted his seat over. His eyebrows twitched as a cheshire grin overtook his face. “Notice how he didn’t deny the kiss?”

Sora could only smirk. “Yep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'Roxas having all the PS systems' is a joke between me and my brother because he told me many years ago that Roxas would be a Sony fanboy. And he would love all Sqaure Enix games.


	4. Riku: Camaraderie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camaraderie: a spirit of friendly good-fellowship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for not updating sooner, but it's not been my week. Last Monday, I actually fractured my right ring finger and almost completely tore off the fingernail as well. So I just had surgery on Friday. This might be the last chapter for maybe a week or so, if only to rest my hand. I had already started this one right before the accident, so I just wanted to get it done.
> 
> Thank you all for the views so far!

Riku found himself drawn to the wall clock during the last fifteen minutes of Technology Strategy, unable to concentrate on the teacher’s lecturing. He tapped the eraser end of his pencil on his desk and held back a sigh. It was nothing against the professor, but Riku was growing disinterested. He preferred doing things to learn, instead of sitting down and listening--especially when the material didn’t connect with him. For nearly twenty minutes, the professor had been going on a tangent about how technology was becoming more and more of a focus point in modern businesses. It wasn’t that Riku didn’t care, he just felt ignorant about said technology.

The only way he had access to using a computer was during some of his classes and when he had free time at his internship (though occasionally he had time to visit the university’s library). And even then, it was strictly for school work. So “getting enough clicks on social media” or “ad-revenue” meant nothing to Riku; he had no way to properly utilize such methods nor were they present in his life.

He glanced down to the notes before him and frowned at the sight of its contents: barely a page’s worth. Professor Wise was lax enough with note taking and established on the first day that students should record information they considered important enough and didn’t specify any given amount but it only made Riku extremely self-conscious. He looked around the classroom, to the other students sitting close by his desk and glimpsed at their notebooks. A few had only half a page, though most had twice as much as Riku did. He questioned if he was doing enough and his brain wracked with anxiety.

Thoughts raced through his mind. Was he the only one struggling? Did the other students understand the material easier? What were they seeing as noteworthy, compared to him? His throat was dry, so he pulled at his collar. His hands balled into fists and he squeezed his pencil.  His jaw tightened and he bowed his head. He felt inadequate; he wasn’t doing enough.

“So, students,” Wise’s voice caught his attention. “Consider this to be your first major assignment. It will only be a small percentage on your midterm grades, but I expect effort to be put in. In the next two weeks, I want you to pick a piece of technology. It could be anything you use in your daily life or it could be technology not yet created. And during the next fourteen days, write a paper on how this technology would be beneficial to a company. It will be your job to have a convincing, persuasive statement on why the company should invest in it.”

Riku’s mouth dropped open and he sank in his seat.

“Oh, Mister Wise?” someone asked from a few rows behind Riku.

“Yes, Pence?”

“Could that included video games?” Several laughs interrupted him. “What? There’s tons of benefits to video games like developing good reflexes and cognitive performance. And look at motion controls, they can help with exercising!”

Professor Wise raised his hand and the laughter died down. “Very good points. As long as your paper conveys a clear goal, then it is a sensible topic. If anyone has questions, feel free to stop by after class. On Monday, I’ll pass out an outline paper that can be used for reference.” He turned in his chair and faced the clock. “It’s a few minutes early, but class dismissed.”

There was a murmur of glee as the other students happily gathered their notepads and backpacks. Riku didn’t move.

“Have a wonderful weekend,” the professor announced as he watched the flow of bodies spilling out of the classroom. His amber eyes eventually fell upon Riku, who was still sitting.

Riku stared down at his notes intensely, searching. He brushed his loose strands of bangs away from his eyes. He was...stumped. Riku was clueless as to what his topic would be about; fears of failure already loomed overhead.

“Riku...Tremaine, was it?” the teacher cleared his throat. “Class has been dismissed.”

“A-ah, yes!” Riku scrambled to gather his notebook and other belongings. “Sorry.”

“Is everything alright?” Wise called from his desk and kept his stare on Riku.

Riku dared to look up and meet the professor’s gaze, holding supplies to his chest. Professor Wise was an older man, with very noticeable wrinkles along his cheeks and crows feet at his eyes. His neck length, light blonde hair was typically slicked back and he wore a very groomed short boxed beard. Every one of his classes that Riku attended so far, the teacher always wore a dark business suit and a distinct red ascot.

“Yes, sir,” Riku answered quickly and stood up. “I was...uh...just brainstorming for my paper. Can’t wait to start it.”

“Very good,” Wise replied. “I would advise you to remember though, I’m not expecting perfection. This assignment is meant to help ease you all into a work routine.”

He nodded and he faked a smile. “Yeah.”

“And don’t fret, you still have two weeks. Work at your own pace.”

“Alright. Thank you, sir.”

Professor Wise had a warm smile and he nodded back. Riku took it as a cue to leave the room.

The instant he stepped into the hallway, the smile drained from Riku’s face. He pressed his palm to his forehead as a shuddering sigh escaped him. He waited for an empty gap through the crowd of students before walking forward and kept to himself. His shoulders bunched together and his arms stayed pressed across his chest, clutching his supplies for dear life. His breathing hitched in nervous beats and his eyes darted back forth to the people walking beside him.

Riku hated being in places with people. It wasn’t that he disliked people or distrusted them...but large crowds made him nervous. It _suffocated_ him. Walls threatened to close around and entomb him. So, he stayed quiet and never drew attention; he hoped to go unnoticed.

He followed the crowd through the Business Wing hallway, walking the span of several minutes. After he arrived at the main vestibule entrance, Riku splintered off to a bench and sat down. He took many deep breaths and closed his eyes. He felt overstimulated from the sheer amount of people passing by. His heartbeat strummed madly against his chest and his hands were shaking. His fingers tapped against his knees while his right leg bounced up and down and he waited for the episode to pass.

Eventually, he pulled at his sleeve and stared at his watch. It was just after 11 a.m. and he was finished with classes for the day. There was still an hour before his grandmother came to pick him up and another half hour before he was due for his internship work. His eyes skimmed past the students walking to and fro and landed on the cafeteria doors. Events of the previous day quickly rushed to mind: meeting that other student and returning his pen and him asking Riku to join him at lunch. Biting on the inside of his cheek, Riku pushed himself up. He inhaled and exhaled and kept his stare trained on the doors. He briefly considered his options and hesitantly approached the cafeteria.

Riku slowly pushed against the metal bar and opened the door a few inches; peeking through the crack and eyeing the crowded lunchroom.

“Couldn’t hurt I guess…” Riku’s voice was a soft mutter as he stepped inside.

Chatter greeted him. Nearly every booth and table was full and occupied and Riku lingered helplessly in the doorway.

“Riku! Hey Riku!” There Sora was, sitting at a table with the same girl from yesterday. His voice carried over the others.

It surprised Riku with how animated he was; how his arms shot up in the air and waved eagerly. His grin was as welcoming and bright as a sunbeam and very contagious; Riku couldn’t help but to smile--albeit small and shy smile--and hesitantly waved back. Sora pulled his arms close over and over in a ‘come hither’ gesture and pointed down to empty chain directly beside him. So, Riku stepped closer.

“Hiyya, Riku!” Sora called out as soon as Riku was within earshot.

Riku nodded to him and eyed the lunch table. Sora shared the circular tabletop with his friend...girlfriend…sister? He took the seat beside at Sora with the brunette’s insistent patting and offered a meek, “Uh...Hi.”

“Riku’s here!” Sora grinned and leaned forward on the table. His arms were outstretched and he looked pleased with himself. “See, Kairi? He _is_ real.”

Sora’s friend, who was nose deep in the textbook before her, didn’t move and made an affirming hum. “So he is.”

“Hi,” Riku murmured and held up his hand. “I’m Riku.”

“I’ve heard,” she replied and finally moved her gaze up. She looked Riku up and down with azure eyes like she was studying him and brushed auburn bangs against her temple. “I’m Kairi. My phone’s been blowing about you all morning.”

“Don’t lie, Kairi! I only sent like five texts.”

Kairi chuckled and continued to watch Riku. “I’ll warn you now that Sora is like a puppy hyped up on sugar once you befriend him. And since you gave him back his favorite pen, he’ll treat it like a life debt or something,” she commented casually and waved one hand back and forth.

“It’s not just a pen,” Sora said quickly after gasping and slapped a hand to his chest. “It’s a limited edition Mickey Mouse writing utensil. You know how much I love it.”

Kairi’s mouth curved into a smirk. “Mmhmm.”

Riku glanced back and forth, unsure of what to make of the pair’s quips. “It just means alot to you, right? Nothing wrong with that.”

“Yep!” Sora turned his attention to Riku. “Everyone always teases me, but I love Disney stuff. I’ve seen a lot of the movies probably hundreds of times now. Ha ha.”

“Sora and I have known each other since we were kids,” Kairi explained as she closed her textbook. “So if I went to his house or he came over to mine, he’d always beg to have a Disney movie on.”

Sora grinned again, unabashed, and crossed his arms together. “What about you, Riku? What’s your favorite one?”

“Favorite…?” Riku repeated, while Sora nodded with encouragement. “I’ve….uh...never seen any.” Their surprised stares made Riku flinch and he lowered his gaze. He tensed up, unsure of their reactions. “Is it that weird?”

“No...It’s just...you’ve never really seen one?” Sora asked, sounding distraught. “The Little Mermaid? Lion King? Beauty and the Beast…?” Riku shook his head multiple times, which only seemed to horrify Sora more. “But...but...how?!”

“Don’t listen to him.” Kairi reached over and gave a reassuring pat to his arm. “It’s not weird. So what are you studying here?”

“He’s a business major!” Sora answered for him and gestured to Riku’s attire. “He’s all dressed and everything.”

“Thanks,” Riku said and rubbed against the nape of his neck. “It’s a lot more than my clothes though.”

Kairi giggled. “Social Science is technically my field, but I’m actually looking to become a teacher. Probably preschool or elementary is what I’ll focus on. I’m just not entirely sure yet.”

“And I’m in my general classes,” Sora added, pointing a thumb at himself. “Impressive, I know.”

Riku blinked in confusion and looked to Kairi. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “What he means is that he’s getting all his general ed. credits out of the way first.”

“Oh.”

“But, I think we all know what I would love to get a degree for.”

“In what? Being a dork?” Kairi teased and flicked her tongue out.

“Heey!” Sora whined.

A soft chuckle escaped Riku’s mouth and before he knew it, he was smiling. There was an inexplicable feeling he had while sitting at the table with Sora and Kairi and talking to them. It felt odd...but nice to be included in something.

“Oh, oh that reminds me!” Sora reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellphone. “Let’s exchange numbers. A few of my classes are late afternoon two days of the week and you mentioned that you only have some on campus. Soooo it could be awhile before we see each other again.”

“Oh…” Riku frowned and eyed the device in Sora’s hand. “I don’t have a cellphone. Sorry.” He wasn’t even sure with how to use one.

“Really?” Sora’s lip pursed into a line. “Huh...What about facebook?”

“...What’s that?” Riku couldn’t have felt more naive.

Kairi shared a brief, swiveling glance with Sora before she spoke up. “Well, you have your school email, right? How about that?”

“Yeah, that could work,” he replied. He tore a blank piece of paper from his notebook and reached for a pen--

“Wait! Use mine!” Sora happily shoved the very same pen Riku returned to him in his face.

Riku carefully took it between his fingers and twirled it back and forth, admiring the bright red and black colors. He smiled and slowly jotted down his email. “I check it throughout the week. I-If you can’t read my handwriting, it’s RT2985 at Traverse.edu.”

“Oh, wow!” Sora leaned over Riku’s arm and watched. “You’re writing is so neat and tidy, Riku.”

As much as it made Riku uncomfortable to have someone so close to him, just inches from coming in contact with each other, he didn’t voice the uneasiness. He finished and passed the paper around for both Sora and Kairi, who eagerly both recorded their own emails. Afterwards, Kairi tore the paper in two and handed Riku back the half with their emails. He studied them both--SS0488 and KT1089.

“Well, this will give Sora an excuse to finally use his email,” Kairi teased as she copied Riku’s email down for herself and slid the scrap piece of paper in her notebook.

“Yeah,” Sora agreed and burst out in laughter. “If mine were a real thing, you’d see cobwebs all over it and it’d be so empty and pitiful looking.”

There was some kind of notification sound coming from Kairi’s book bag and Riku watched as she whipped a silver phone out. She flipped it open, read its contents, and smiled. “I need to go,” she stated and had her items gathered in mere seconds. “Sora, be a good child.”

“--I am always good!”

“Riku, nice meeting you!” she exclaimed as she stood up and moved with lightning speed, organizing all her books and paper in her bag. She nodded to both Riku and Sora and gave a wave over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd of other students.

Riku watched in awe as Kairi power walked away. “Wow. She’s fast.”

“Yep!”

But, like Riku feared, the conversation came to an abrupt halt. He found himself sitting in silence with Sora. He twiddled his thumbs together, pulled at his sleeve cuffs, tapped his foot up and down. From the corner of his eyes, Sora looked distracted. He had his chin propped up on his arms and his fingers idly traced circles on the tabletop.

Had Sora already gotten tired of being around him? Riku wondered, was he really so boring to other people?

“...Hey, Riku?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you ok?” Sora asked after spotting Riku’s shaking hands.

“Yeah. Y-yeah!” Riku cleared his throat and retracted his arms, hiding them under the lunch table. His cheeks burned and he avoided Sora’s eyes.  “I just have a lot on my mind. It’s nothing.”

“Oh…” By the way Sora’s voice trailed off, it didn’t sound like he believed Riku, but he didn’t press the subject any further. “You kind of remind me of my older brother, Cloud. He’s really shy around new people, but he’s a great friend after he trusts someone. Do you have any siblings?”

Riku quietly shook his head. “Only child.”

“Awww. Lucky. You must get a lot of presents for your birthday and stuff! I have to share everything with my twin.”

“You have a twin?” Riku couldn’t help but to imagine two Soras sitting side by side, dressed identically.

“I do indeed! But we’re fraternal twins, so we barely look alike. I actually have three brothers all together.” Sora lifted his fingers and counted them off, “Cloud, Roxas, and Van--uh...the third’s kind of complicated.” Sora laughed, although it carried a nervous twinge, and he shrugged. “I’ll explain it later.”

“It’s ok if you don’t want to talk about it,” Riku assured him, completely understanding that it wasn’t easy for someone to open up about their personal life.

Sora smiled, rubbing his thumb against his nose. He almost looked...relieved. “Other than being a twin and my love of Disney, I’m kind of a snore.”

“You don’t seem boring to me,” Riku admitted truthfully. Compared to his lifestyle, anyone else would have an exciting life.

“Give it time,” Sora said back with an emphasizing wink. He paused after he looked at his phone again and he made a disappointed sigh. “Aww, shoot. I need to head to fun, fun Trigonometry.”

“Yeah, I have to leave soon too,” Riku murmured after checking his watch.

“Ok! Don’t forget to check your email.” Sora did a twin finger-gun motion at him.

“You’re serious about that, aren’t you?”

“Why not?” Sora stretched his arms high above him and canted his head at Riku. “We’re friends now, right? And friends keep in contact!”

“Oh...I…”

“Don’t worry! I won’t be one of those annoying people that sends messages every few minutes. Anyway, gotta go. See ya, Riku!” Sora didn’t give him a chance to reply as he jogged off.

Riku watched him go, mouth hanging open. Confusion overtook him as he tore his gaze down to the paper with Sora and Kairi’s email. He lifted it closer and brushed his fingers over the dried ink, dubiously. The past half hour played over in his mind as Riku carefully folded the paper and tucked it safely into his pant’s pocket.

For a moment, Riku stared dumbly at nothing. “Friends...huh?”

What a weird day. Weird, but nice, day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help this poor boy.


	5. Roxas: Conventional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conventional: ordinary rather than different or original.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh. djfsdfjsdf My apologies for the length of time between this chapter and the last one. In the span of four months, I've had two surgeries! And I've been recovering. This chapter has been kind of sitting around and waiting for me to post it. Thanks for the patience : )

Over the past month, Roxas had perfected the art of balancing drinks, but he still wasn’t sure if it was a useful skill in the grand scheme of things.

As he climbed off the white and orange tram car that traversed the city, he clutched the two layers of cardboard drink carriers to his chest. He stepped carefully, looking side to side, as he maneuvered through the crowd of people waiting to board. Luckily, one of the tram’s stops was directly across the street from his destination: the looming tower of Ansem Corporation. Affably nicknamed the ‘Memory Skyscraper’, the concrete giant was one of the few older remaining buildings that evaded being demolished. The thirteen storey building towered over everything surrounding it--all other businesses, apartment buildings, stores.

Roxas scurried down to the crosswalk and he elbowed the crossing button. An exhausted yawn escaped him as he waited for the light to change. His foot tapped on the ground and he stared blankly ahead. The sound of wheels rolling on the pavement caught his attention and Roxas glanced behind him. A group of younger teens passed by, some on skateboards and some rollerblading; he thought back to the summers he spent with his friends. His made an uneven pout and he watched the kids go by, feeling a mixture of envy and longing. This summer had been the first one where his group didn’t have much free time to hang out together.

Hayner, Pence, Olette...They were all enrolled in classes. And Roxas...was here.

When the light blinked and indicated a safe path, Roxas followed the other pedestrians onto the street. He pushed air out from his mouth, like a deflated sigh. A few of the cars waiting for them to walk by honked impatiently, so Roxas whipped his head and glared. A part of him wished his hands weren’t full so he could respond with a not-so-friendly gesture, but he settled for locking stares with the drivers and narrowing his eyes, daring them to react. Surely the others would understand if their drinks became casualties and ammo for chucking.

That was one thing Roxas hated about Twilight Town: traffic, traffic, traffic. He only lived about twenty minutes away, but traveling from Traverse by bus took nearly double that amount. The streets were always so...busy and crowded with cars.

While Roxas crossed the street, he got a better view of the front plaza. The entrance had a twin set of staircases, with a hall fountain wedged between them. As usual, he spotted two familiar figures standing guard and approached them without a second thought.

“Morning, fellas,” Roxas greeted them when he was in talking distance.

Aeleus Neufeld and Dilan Aleva were both physically imposing men, both easily a head taller than him. Every day, Roxas noticed they wore the same matching black jackets with a bolded white ‘ANSEM CORP’ printed on the backs and sleeves. Name badges were clipped onto their left chest pockets with scannable barcodes and mugshots below their names.

Aeleus was the head of security, but sometimes Roxas honestly believed the guy was a statue. He hardly spoke, unless spoken to first and his movements were restrained and subtle. But he looked...angry; his eyebrows dipping along his eyes and his mouth a perpetual frown. Judging from the bits of exposed olive skin on his hands and face, Aeleus was decorated in scars. He always wore a black cap and tips of his wiry brown hair poked out around the strap and panels.

Roxas paused by the pair, eyeing the drinks he carried, and reached for the cup with AN initialed on the lid. “Matcha Lemonade,” he said as he handed the drink to Aeleus. “Grande, iced.”

Aeleus’s stone expression relented with a thin smile. He took the offered cup and nodded at Roxas. His piercing blue eyes looked Roxas up and down. “Roxas, we’ve told you before that this isn’t necessary.”

“Matcha Green Tea Frappe.” Roxas handed off a cup to Dilan as well.

“Bah. Just say thank you, Aeleus,” Dilan spoke up, his voice deep and raspy, his thick eyebrows arching high on his forehead as he gave an irked glance. The ends of his dreadlocks, pulled back in a ponytail, fell over his shoulder. “It’s obvious the boy will keep doing it. What’s the saying about leading a horse to water?” Dilan was Aeleus’ second-in-command. Although he was shorter by a few inches, he was much more expressive and animated than Aeleus, and while Dilan had a very similar burly build, his tan skin lacked scars like Aeleus’.

“...Very well. Thank you, Roxas.”

“Not a problem.” Roxas readjusted his grasp on the drink carriers and passed between the two.

“Rooooxas!” It wasn’t long after entering the lobby that a very familiar voice practically screamed his name.

He instinctively sighed at the dramatic sound and approached the receptionist desk. “Hey, Dyme.”

“Roxas! My favorite intern guy!”

“Uh huh.” Roxas rolled his eyes. “It’s not just because I’m the one who brings drinks, right?”

“It helps!” Dyme grinned and leaned closer, strumming his fingers on his desk eagerly. “Didja bring me--”

“Teavana Shaken Iced Passion Tango Tea Lemonade,” Roxas interjected with an all-knowing tone.

“Oh man!” Dyme’s eyes lit up as he made grabby hands. “You know me so well, dude.”

“Did Even come in already?” Roxas asked as he handed off a trenta sized cup.

“Nope. Not yet.” Dyme stabbed his straw into his drink and chugged down a huge sip. “Mmmmmmm.”

“I’ll leave his drink here then,” Roxas explained as he passed the last remaining drink in the top cup holder. He then took the opportunity to rest his arms, stretching them out and rolling them in circular motions.

“You really are too nice, Roxas,” Dyme said between sips.

“Yeah, yeah, Dermody.”

“Must mean you finally like it here, huh?”

Roxas shrugged and sent a studious look at Dyme. After several passing conversations typically in the morning, he wasn’t sure what to make of him. The lovechild of a mullet and fauxhawk that was his hairstyle, his sun kissed skin and dirty blonde hair and his lingo all screamed a surfer or beach goer vibe...and yet, here he was working as the main receptionist at an office job.

“I dunno,” Roxas admitted with a sigh. “I guess it’s not too bad of a job, even if I question my boss and his sanity.”

Dyme nearly spat out his drink and laughed into his hand. “Yeah. Braig is...uh...interesting. But, don’t take him too seriously. He likes to tease everybody.” He shook his head. “He even refers to me as ‘Even’s little brother’ even though I’m just _dating_ Ienzo.”

“You guys have been ‘just dating’ for an awful long time though,” Roxas shot back and eyed the numerous photos on Dyme’s desk. Many were of him standing beside another man; dark ashy hair--the bangs hiding one of his deep azure eyes--a leaner figure, and paler skin. In some of the photos, Roxas spotted a golden retriever sitting on Dyme’s lap or laying beside him. “Haven’t you two thought about marriage?”

“Well...I….uh...O-of course!” Dyme’s voice cracked. “Don’t get me wrong, Ienzo and I really love each other...it’s just...something’s happened recently. And we gotta figure things out.”

Roxas hummed in understanding. “Yeah. You’d want to be a hundred percent sure you love someone before you marry.” His voice faltered and he crossed his arms.

“Oh...Shoot. Sorry, Roxas,” Dyme said while scratching at his temple.“You’re dealing with that divorce stuff at home, right?”

“I should head in now,” Roxas replied, ignoring Dyme’s question. He snatched the second tray of drinks and walked around the circular desk.

“Thanks again!” Dyme’s voice followed after him.

Roxas muttered a soft, “Yeah…”

He made his way to the elevator, which was down a long hallway past nearly twenty doors. He didn’t want to think about his parents; he didn’t want to think about his brothers. Sora and Cloud acted so placid about the divorce--about everything--and Roxas wondered bitterly if they even cared.

“--es-Leiker, huh?”

He looked up when he heard a distant voice. Standing at the end of the hall was his boss: Braig Whalen. Roxas grimaced.

“Interesting. Keep me updated,” he spoke to his earpiece, ever-so-nonchalantly. He turned and faced Roxas, a surprised expression briefly appearing before it was replaced with a much too informal smile. Braig held his arms out wide and exclaimed, “Why if it isn’t Moxie Roxie!”

“Morning, Mister Whalen,” Roxas said with a neutral tone.

“Bwah! Mister? How old do you think I am, kiddo?”

“...Younger than fifty maybe?” Roxas offered hesitantly. In his defense, Briag was showing gray, but it was styled in a skunk stripe.

“That’s a good one!” Braig burst into laughter and looped an arm around Roxas’ shoulder. “You’re a riot.”

“Uhhh.” Roxas grabbed one of the drinks and held it up. “...Here’s your coffee?”

Braig feigned a gasp and pinched his face, like a grandparent did to their grandchildren. “A soymilk Serious Strawberry Frappuccino?! How did you know?”

“You ask for it all the time?” Roxas recoiled, his cheek now feeling sore.

“Heh. I’m flattered you remember little ol’ me. It brings a tear to my eye.” He paused to take a long sip from his straw. “Eye pun, get it?”

“Errr. Yes.” Roxas held back an exasperated groan.

“Heh. These drinks aren’t your way of trying to get up on the business ladder, right?” Braig swiveled the cup in his hand. “Ass kissing is so overdone.”

In his short time of employment at Ansem Corp. Roxas realized there wasn’t anyone as mysterious and odd as his boss. Aside from the eyepatch on his right eye and a distinct scar running along the left side of his face, he appeared...normal enough, coming dressed to work like any other office worker and keeping a tidy appearance. But Roxas had spent enough time around the older man to know he was _weird_. Typically, Roxas had no problem gauging if someone liked him or not, but Braig was on his own level; he never seemed mad, but his voice oozed with sarcasm most of the time. He always poked and prodded with teasing comments.

“Are you sure? I could start ass kissing too, sir,” Roxas replied and pressed the call button for the elevator.

Braig boomed out in laughter and slapped his back, almost causing Roxas to drop the remaining drinks he was holding. “Well now, you have a sense of humor after all!”

Roxas squinted at the elevator’s floor count, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for it to reach his floor. “It’s one of my few talents in this world.”

“Ooooooh. Roxas has a bite!” He finally pulled his arm away from Roxas, but not before scruffing his hair in playful noogie. “Kids these days, always so eager to grow up.”

Roxas’ eyes twitched. “I’m not a kid. I’m twenty.”

Braig scoffed. “Twenty years fresh.”

“Oh, look, the elevator is here,” Roxas blurted out and nearly dove into the opening doors. “Gotta go! Important adult stuff to work on. Nice talking to you, Mister Whalen.”

He let Roxas leave without any objection. The last thing Roxas saw was a cheshire grin on the man’s face and a single brown eye peering at him as the elevator doors ominously closed shut.

“What is with that guy?” Roxas uttered under his breath and stabbed the eighth floor button. He pinched at the bridge between his nose and shook his head.

He stood in silence, listening to the obnoxiously cheery elevator music as the elevator jerked and rose up.

 

* * *

 

The eighth floor, as many of the other workers called it, was ‘Paperwork Hell’. As Roxas stepped out of the elevator, he got a good view of mountains and mountains of paper on nearly every desk--receipts, invoices, copies of emails for record’s sake. Roxas was sure it would horrify anyone unfamiliar with the work if they learned all the paperwork was only a month’s worth of information.

He made his way to the right, to the farthest corner on the office floor, after spotting pointed tips of red poking over a cubicle wall. Not-so-hushed voices seeped out into the open and it wasn’t alarming when he saw Lea and Arlene chatting away, as usual.

“It’s nice to see you two are working hard,” Roxas announced as he entered the cubicle.

“Aww, what d’ya mean? I always work hard,” Lea retorted back, his bright green eyes flashing a wink. Despite his statement, he was leaning back in his chair--paperwork scattered and untouched before him--and his arms were crossed behind his head. Everything about Lea revealed his casual nature: how his nude blazer was currently covering his chair instead of being worn, how his top was unbuttoned by two rows, and how his slacks were wrinkled. “When I put the effort in, anyway.”

“Oh, bullshit, Porcelli,” Arlene laughed. “You are a lazy bastard.”

“But you haven’t done any work yet either,” Roxas chided as he entered the spacious cubicle, eyeing the mess on her desk. “Do you two even deserve these drinks?”

“Um. Yes?” Lea murmured. “Because I am such a dashing looking fellow. And hot?”

“Eh, I’d say you’re a five--six if I’m generous.” Arlene waved her hand in a ‘so-so’ gesture.

“Well, you just don’t know how to appreciate a good looking man.”

“Average looking man,” she replied sweetly. “What do you think, Roxas? What would you rate Lea as?”

Roxas cleared his throat when both Arlene and Lea stared at him and ignored the obvious bait. Personally, he liked the stylized points of Lea’s dark auburn hair, but there was no way in hell he’d admit it. “Dunno and don’t care. I will give you both the drinks if you promise never to ask me again.”

This drew a loud snicker from Arlene and she was the first to snatch one of the cups. “Why thank you, Roxie-poo.” She fluttered her baby blue eyes in many a coy winks. Just like Lea, she was also dressed in a blazer, though hers had a ruffling tail trim, and pair of dress pants, both a dark slate gray.

Lea grabbed one as well. “Don’t mind if I do.”

“Enjoy your sea salt frappes.” A disgusted shiver ran down Roxas’ spine. “It sounds disgusting.”

“Better than paying three bucks for a bottle of water.” Arlene’s tone mocked him.

“Now, now, Miss Heifetz. Roxas also paid for your drink, so you can’t criticize his bad spending habits.”

“I also bought _yours_ ,” Roxas added and scowled at the pair. He pinched at the bridge between his eyes and slumped down in the nearest chair. With a sigh, Roxas unscrewed the bottle’s cap and sipped at the water.

“We tease with love, Roxas.”

“Shove your love down your throats,” he growled.

The next thing he knew, Lea held his drink out. “Here. I haven’t drank any yet. Why don’t you try some?”

“Eww. Why would I do that?”

“How do you know if it’s gross or not if you haven’t tasted it?” Arlene countered, eyeing them as she drank, her straw tucked in the corner of her mouth.

“No,” Roxas snapped. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to do the work I’m paid to do.”

Lea shrugged, not looking too offended by the refusal, and finally focused his attention on his paperwork.

“By the way.” Arlene smirked and tapped her fingers on her desk pointedly. “Did you hear about Isa’s new lapdog?”

Roxas glanced up. He had been working with Arlene and Lea long enough to know that Lea’s mood spun one-eighty as soon as the name ‘Isa’ was mentioned.

Lea scowled, as usual, and he ignored the question.

“Tremaine’s grandson,” Arlene continued on.

“Who?”

Lea flashed Roxas a roll of his eyes, but he kept his irritation unvoiced.

“Oh. Right. You aren’t familiar with the company’s lovely backstory,” Arlene said and casually plucked at the pieces of paper closest to her. “Word is that the previous company leader was married to this crazy broad, way before you or me or Lea were even a twinkle in our parents eyes. I suppose they divorced, she remarried and now it’s her grandson running around under Isa’s shadow.”

Roxas couldn’t help but notice how Lea cringed again.

“Do you have to keep mentioning his name?” Lea gritted out, his face looking sour.

“Who?” Arlene said casually, though she wore a shit-eating grin. “Oh, Isa? But it’s just a name. It’s not like Isa is here right now. If he was, I’d say ‘Hi, Isa. Are you and Lea still acting like total idiots? Yes?’ But Isa _isn_ ’ _t_ here. No, I don’t see any Isas, do you Roxas?”

Lea glared.

Roxas almost laughed. “None at the moment.” Though, in his defense, he wasn’t even sure what Isa looked like.

“I’m going on a smoke break,” Lea suddenly announced and shoved himself out his chair, fists knocking on his desk.

Roxas watched Lea’s retreating form, surprised by the outburst. His confused gaze went  the doorway through which the other man slipped through and then towards Arlene. “Um. Why does he keep getting mad when you bring up that name?”

Unfazed, Arlene took another sip from her drink and then looked at him. “Well, Roxas. No offense, but every single guy ever is emotionally stunted--especially that one. Feelings frighten them like the tiny fragile deer they are. And then they scatter to the wind because running away from their problems is so much easier to do.”

“...What?”

Arlene merely cackled and her smug expression was still plastered all over her face. “Oh, Roxie-poo. You’ll understand when Cupid has you in his cross-hairs and snipes you.”

“Cupid uses a bow, not a gun,” Roxas scoffed.

“Oooh, I didn’t realize you were such an expert.”

He rolled his eyes and took another drink from his water bottle. “Are you trying to say Lea and that Isa person had a bad relationship or something?”

“Or something,” Arlene rolled her head, twirling her fingers against short strands of her blonde hair.

Before Roxas could question her, the phone rang and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He was never going to get any work done. He watched Arlene expectantly, since she was much closer to it.

“You...gonna answer that?” Roxas asked, eyeing her after she didn’t move. When she didn’t respond, Roxas leaned over the desk, hand outstretched for the phone--only for Arlene to swipe it from reach last second while smiling like a she-devil. He didn’t take her actions too personal; she acted like this to everyone as far as he knew.

“Hello,” she greeted with a forced-polite tone and stuck her tongue out at Roxas. “Floor 8. You’ve reached the most beautiful woman ever.” Arlene winced when a muffled voice, very loud and high-pitched, came through the headset. “Why, Even. What ever is the matter?”

Roxas groaned and dragged a hand down his face. Nothing was ever easy when Even called, despite Roxas always going out of his way to bring him coffee too.

“Flowers? In your office again? You want Roxas to come remove them?” From the tone in her voice, this wasn’t news to her at all.

He shook his head fervently and locked eyes with Arlene, silently mouthing ‘no’ over and over. Technically his job was to help out whoever needed him, but Roxas hated when he was given busy work.

“Alright.” Arlene was still smiling innocently. “I’ll have him come right away. Ta-ta.” She then dropped the phone back on its reciever. “Ugh. That man has the most nasally and annoying voice.”

“Thanks for volunteering me against my will,” Roxas grumbled.

“You’re welcome. It’s not healthy for a child to be stuck sitting down all day. Build some muscles.”

“I am not a child. I’m twenty,” Roxas huffed out.

“Hmmm.” The blonde woman leaned back in her chair, very much amused. “Nah. You’re a baby.”

Why was he having this conversation again in one day?

“Whatever,” Roxas spat out and stormed out of the cubicle. “Why is everyone in this building so _weird_?”

It took about ten minutes to reach Even’s office, due to it being on the fourth floor and everyone wanted to ride the elevators today--and...Roxas took his time to walk, of course. When he arrived at the familiar door, he pressed his ear against the wood surface. He could already already make out bits and pieces of Even’s current tangent; Arlene was indeed right about how nasally his voice was.

He rapped his knuckles against the door before grabbing the handle and pushing it open. “You needed me?”

Roxas stepped inside the office and was greeted to several bouquets of flowers overflowing his line of sight. He wasn’t even sure if Even had a desk right now, due to the overwhelming presence of flowers--roses and lilies and daffodils and hydrangea. He sent a passing glance to the lanky man currently fuming in the corner of his office, currently slamming his fingers against his telephone’s buttons. Even was a very pale man, who constantly looked angry and offended, with dark bags under his green eyes. Unlike most of the other people who worked at Ansem Corp. he never wore anything business-like, typically sporting a long white coat instead.

“Why does he never answer when I call his office?! It’s almost like he is avoiding me!” Even gave up after no answer came from the number he dialed and roughly hanged up the phone. He turned on his heels and focused his ire directly on Roxas and then to the flowers. “I’ve made a formal complaint about these flowers that are constantly showing up on my desk and nothing is done!”

“At least it smells nice,” Roxas murmured with a shrug.

“That isn’t funny,” Even hissed back. “Please disposes of these nuisances at once. I don’t care how you do it or where you take them.”

“Really? But they’re so pretty. Doesn’t it seem like a waste just to get rid of them?” As Roxas approached the desk, he couldn’t help but question who would buy someone like Even flowers. It seemed like a waste of money if it was just their idea of a joke.

“Let me be perfectly clear: I don’t care,” Even said, annoyed, as he sat down in his chair. “They are taking up space and I am tired of seeing them.”

Roxas’ mouth drew in a thin line as he awkwardly gathered the bunches of flowers--a total of five bouquets--and hugged them to his chest. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep any of them?”

Even’s glare was enough of an answer and spun in his office chair to pull the drawstring for the blinds. He then paused, looked over his shoulder and stated as if something had dawned on him, “Oh. And thank you for the coffee.” His tone wasn’t quite as snippy as it had seconds beforehand.

Roxas exhaled deeply as he stepped out of Even’s office and wondered just what the hell he was supposed to do with so many flowers. “Got to love being an intern.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roxas is so tired from everyone being meanies 8(


End file.
